


He Said/She Said

by orphan_account



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Drunk Dialing, Drunk Texting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:37:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wherein Betty gets wasted and calls Jughead, Jughead gets slightly less wasted and calls Betty, and they get drunk together at Friendsmas.Post-high school AU in which they never dated.





	He Said/She Said

Wednesday

 

“Cheers, bitches!”

Cheryl held her shot glass high in one hand and her champagne flute in the other. Veronica and Betty did the same, along with Josie, Val, and Mel. They were seated on the stiff, stark white pleather of the booths in the club. It was Christmas break and the girls met up for a night out together while they were all in town. Cheryl was the only legal one of the group, but Veronica’s attendance meant that didn’t matter for the nineteen and twenty-year-old minors. It still amazed Betty, the strings that girl could pull.

The hot whiskey burning her throat and the bubbly champagne tickling it, Betty squeezed her eyes closed and suppressed a cough. Then Veronica giggled and yelled a _whoo_ , and Betty smiled and rolled her eyes. The room spun a little longer than it should have. _Oops_.

“Let’s dance,” Veronica demanded, lacing her fingers through Betty’s and pulling her to her feet. Betty had to take a moment to steady herself on her heels, but soon easily followed Veronica into the crowd. Their hands stayed grasped together for a long while. They spun each other, dropped it low, and occasionally turned their attention to the bodies around them. The rest of the group danced and hollered from the VIP section they occupied, a booth-lined sort of platform that faced the dance floor.

Betty began to dance with a stranger with dark, wavy hair. He had a leather jacket on, fake but aesthetically pleasing. He was tall. If she squinted enough, he looked like _him_. Betty danced closer, resting her hand on his shoulder and draping her forearm down his chest. Her hips swayed and he found one with his hand. She slid her hand up his shoulder, up his neck, and into his hair. Her fist clenched and she gave the thick black locks a gentle pull, just like in the dream she’d had the other night. He groaned, and the difference in his voice put a hiccup in her fantasy. She turned to dance with her back to him. That wasn’t really working for her either, and when she saw a flash of Veronica’s velvet dress she was over it. She found her friend and Veronica demanded more shots.

“How do you drink that shit?” Veronica pointed a disgusted look at Betty’s whiskey over her own tequila.

“Likewise,” Betty countered. Their expressions had become pointed towards one another, and after a lengthy pause they erupted into giggles. They clinked glasses, tilted their heads back, and when their eyes met again they were both well beyond buzzed.

Betty needed to regroup. She couldn’t stand for fear of stumbling. She was tired now, so tired. She wanted to curl up. She wanted to cuddle, to be held. She wanted Juggie.

**Betty [12:10]: Ugh.**

**Jughead [12:13]: ?**

**Betty [12:14]: You**

**[12:16]: You need to stop**

**Jughead [12:18]: Hah, stop what, Betts?**

**Betty [12:19]: UGH**  
  
**[12:22]: Sorry , thats not w hat i meant to say.**

**Jughead [12:23]: Are you okay?**

Betty rejected the incoming call that immediately flashed across her screen. His crooked smile and crinkled eyes made her stomach twist. No way she could handle his voice in her ear right now. Nope.

**Betty [12:25]: Of course im fine why woudln’t i be**

**Jughead [12:25]: Uh**  
  
**[12:26]: You drunk, Betts?**

**Betty [12:29]: Yeah**  
  
**[12:29]: So ?**  
  
**[12:31]: Ugh.**

**Jughead [12:32]: Are you okay?**

**Betty [12:34]: Stop asking me that.**

Betty’s attention was pulled away by the familiar high-pitch of her friends’ drunken exclamations. They were all dancing, and Cheryl had not-Jughead in her grasp. A pang of jealous want shot through Betty. She’d been festering this crush for years; when she’d finally got over Archie’s rejection, it wasn’t long until Jughead’s presence gave her butterflies. An innocent crush turned serious over the years, but Betty told herself she didn’t want to risk their friendship. Silent and miserable she stayed.

The fantasies had started the year before, during her first semester of college. She had a boyfriend and she lost her virginity to him, closing her eyes and finding Jughead behind them. Later, on her first trip home for Thanksgiving, she lay in bed unable to sleep. The shine of the ladder in her window caught her eye, and she imagined Jughead climbing up it. Into her room. Walking over to her bed. If he pulled back the sheets, he’d see her hand hidden between her legs. She’d imagined it was his head buried there.

The dreams, waking and sleeping, haunted her incessantly. She was overwhelmed. She stopped glaring at not-Jughead and Cheryl and looked back down at her phone.

**Betty [12:40]: I ‘m sorry**

**Jughead [12:41]: Why?**

**[12:41]: Don’t be.**

**Betty [12:43]: I should be tho**

**Jughead [12:43]: Why?**

**Betty [12:47]: .. .thoughts**

**Jughead [12:48]: Bad thoughts?**

**Betty [12:50]: Mhm. And good. at the same time.**

**Jughead [12:51]: …About me?**

**Betty [12:52]: Why would u think that**

**Jughead [12:53]: Why did you apologize?**

**[1:04]: Betty?**

**[1:09]: Are you okay?**

Betty had left the club, sensory overload getting the best of her. She carefully walked out the door and across the parking lot to the limo Veronica’s driver was waiting in. She climbed into the back and pulled out her phone. She rolled her eyes and dialed, lifting her phone to her ear.

“Betty?” Why did he sound like he was laughing? Where did he get off…

“What did I say? Stop asking if I’m okay, _Jughead_ , you’re not the boss of me.” He laughed again when she exaggerated his name in her irritation. “And what the fuck’s so funny?”

“Betts, you made a video call.” Another laugh. “Sorry.” Betty froze, embarrassed and confused. “Your ear looks lovely tonight, by the way.”

She pulled her phone away to look at the screen, and she wished she hadn’t. There was Jughead, his hair let loose and that same boyish grin in place. Betty bit her lip, stopping a smile from growing.

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. When Jughead shook his head a curl fell over his forehead. Betty sighed.

“Don’t be. But, without me asking that pesky question again, can you give me some answers?”

Betty nodded, so Jughead continued,

“How are you getting home?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, and Jughead’s brows drew together.

“Do you need me to come get you?”

“I wish,” Betty mumbled, briefly fumbling her phone and muffling her response.

“Huh?”

“No, no I don’t. V’s driver is taking us back to her place tonight. I just don’t know how I’m getting home tomorrow. I might walk. My mom might get me. I dunno.”

“Oh. Okay, good. That was my next question, you’re out with Veronica?”

Betty nodded. “With the girls.”

“Having fun?”

Betty shrugged slowly. “Yeah. Off and on.”

“You look like you’re ready for bed,” Jughead said, and she thought maybe he winked. Her heart raced.

“Mhm,” she murmured and pressed back against the seat, shifting her body as she sought comfort. “Are you in bed, Juggie?” Only then did she notice that he was, indeed, shirtless under blue bedding.

“Uh, yeah,” he answered, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. A smile spread across Betty’s pursed lips.

“Mm. I miss you.”

“Yeah? That was my next question. When do I get to see you before you head back to the big city?”

“Whenever you want, I’m all yours.”

“That’s hardly true, Betty,” he said, pulling his hand through his hair. “I bet half the town has a claim on your time before you leave.”

“Yeah,” Betty rolled her eyes, “but, Jug, you’re the only one I want.” She paused. “To see.”

They held one another’s gaze for what seemed like forever and an instant all at once. Betty’s breathing grew heavier, and Jughead parted his lips to speak but was interrupted. The girls suddenly came pouring into the limo, and Veronica quickly plucked Betty’s phone from her hand.

“Hey!” Betty protested, her stomach dropping at the sudden loss.

“Oh! Jughead! Hi!” Veronica cackled, as did the other girls. Betty’s face was growing hot.

“Hi, ladies,” Jughead answered with a forced wave.

“Oh, Jughead! You have to come to Friendsmas! I’m hosting, Friday night, eight-ish. Bring a gift and a dish.”

“What? Friendsmas?” Betty gently shook Veronica’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we just thought of it inside. Fab, right?” Veronica grinned victoriously and Betty shrugged.

Betty stole her phone back and held it tightly, this time much closer to her face, and Jughead’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“There. I’ll see you there,” she told him.

“I’ll see you there,” he repeated. “Goodnight, Betts.”

“Sweet dreams, Juggie.”

 

Thursday

 

The following morning Betty thought she’d dreamed him up again. Thursday afternoon, after a text from her mother, she saw the last message in the recent thread with Jughead. She didn’t open it right away, but when she did, she remembered the call. The video call. _Smooth, Betty_.

But through her memories of making an ass of herself, she also remembered Jughead’s concern for her. She felt a warm buzz as a flashback of his face, hair dangling down and lips curving up, filled her head. Her phone chimed, snapping her out of it. Before she even picked it up there were two more texts.

“Geez,” she breathed.

**Veronica [5:12]: Oh, shit. Friendsmas. That’s a thing.**

**[5:13]: Please please please help me pull it together?**

**Betty [5:15]: Of course. What do we need to do?**

**Veronica [5:15]: Shopping.**

Betty’s phone went off again, so she went out of Veronica’s message. She bit her lip. It was Jughead.

**Jughead [5:13]: So is this thing at Veronica’s really happening tomorrow?**

**[5:15]: Or am I the only one who remembers?**

**Betty [5:17]: Definitely happening. I’m being summoned as we speak.**

He sent her the crying laughing emoji and she smiled to herself. Nerves rushed through her when she remembered their plans to see each other there.

**Betty [5:18]: You’re coming, right?**

**Jughead [5:19]: Of course.**

**[5:19]: How are you feeling today?**

Betty sent the monkey covering its eyes.

**Betty [5:21]: Mildly hungover and mildly mortified.**

**[5:22]: Thanks, by the way.**  
  
**[5:22]: I probably wasn’t the easiest to deal with.**

**Jughead [5:24]: You were fine. I’m glad you thought of me.**

_Thoughts. Bad and good thoughts._

**Betty [5:28]: I can’t wait to see you, Jug.**

**Jughead [5:30]: You too, Betts.**

A preview of Veronica’s message flashed at the top of her screen.

**Veronica [5:31]: BETTY, COME ON**

 

...

 

Jughead had been scrolling through his last two conversations with Betty for the past hour, since the most recent messages had come. He swelled with some pathetic sense of accomplishment, a lovesick idiot proud to have been thought of in a moment of extreme inebriation. It was ridiculous, it was nothing. What had even made her think of him?

Frankly, the whole exchange had confused the fuck out of him. It wasn’t an accident, she had executed every text and that stupid adorable call with intention, if not with grace. And had she been… flirting? He’d been on a seesaw of is-she-isn’t-she. She’d spent about half of their interactions pissed. But then, she wasn’t. And those thoughts — had they been about him after all?

And the way she looked. Fuck, it had almost been to much, keeping a level head and steady conversation going once he saw her. Undoubtedly done up in one of Veronica’s dresses, hair styled messily and made messier in her drunkenness, face natural save for deep scarlet lips. It was better than he could have dreamt, and she was in his dreams _a lot_.

_I miss you._

_I’m all yours._

Her voice, lower and thicker than normal, still vibrated in his ears.

_You’re the only one that I want._

Jughead stepped into the shower intent on distraction. Instead he found himself with his dick in his hand, muttering her name between silent curses and ragged breaths.

When he toweled off and got dressed he’d missed a call from his mother and one from his sister. JB had also sent a text, an emoji rolling its eyes. _This bodes well_. He called his mom, and she confirmed his suspicions. She and JB would not be joining them for Christmas as they’d been planning the past year.

Jughead internalized his annoyance and told FP, who was worse at internalizing. He’d scowled the whole way through the fried chicken he brought home for dinner, and immediately went for the bottle of Jameson above the fridge when the paper bucket was in the trash. He also went for a beer, and surprised Jughead when he brought a second from the fridge for him.

Three hours later Jughead and FP sat on either side of the couch, their beers in hand and the now dwindling bottle of Jameson on the table in front of them. They both laughed at something Bill Murray did, they were watching _Scrooged_ , and a few moments later FP leaned forward to pour another round.

“Okay,” FP said in a low grumble when the end credits rolled, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, son.” He stood and patted Jughead’s shoulder on his way to his room.

“Night, dad,” Jughead said.

After some brief channel surfing Jughead settled on a rerun of _My So-Called Life_. The show had always been a guilty pleasure of his. Plus, now that he thought about it, Claire Danes and Betty bore a sort of similarity.

Betty.

She threaded in and out of his drunk, muddled mind.

Several trips to the kitchen for water made him realize just how drunk he’d become, room spinning and balance unsteady. He maintained enough of his wits to recognize the familiar pang of hunger, and he opened his contacts to order delivery. The line ringing in his ear made his head buzz.

“Jug?”

He froze. It was her. Jesus, what had he done.

“Uh, this isn’t Beijing Garden, is it,” he observed dryly. Betty giggled and the beauty of that sound put his heart in a vice grip.

“No, Juggie, it’s not.”

“Damn.”

“Sorry if I’m a let down,” she teased. He didn’t pick up on the cheerful lilt in her voice and took her too seriously.

“No, Betty,” Jughead said, voice edging on overly-stern. “You’re not. You’d never be. You’re only an improvement. To everything.” He squeezed his eyes shut, somehow hoping it would make words stop spilling from his lips.

“Hmm.” He could hear her amusement now. “Well thanks, Jug,” she said in a voice that had grown softer.

“Mhm,” was all he dared as a response.

“Juggie?” Betty asked after a few beats of silence.

“Yeah?” He offered carefully.

“Are you drunk?” Embarrassment flooded through him and a nervous laugh resulted.

“Uh, yeah,” he admitted. Betty giggled again, and Jughead let his head roll back against the arm of the couch, eyes closing briefly.

“Well it seems the tables have turned. Are you sure you didn’t call me on purpose?” She teased.

“Whatever, Betts,” he mumbled with a smile.

“Uh huh.” She was smiling, too. “So, Jug, _are you okay_?”

He wasn’t too drunk to remember his repeated concern from the night before, or her annoyance at it. He couldn’t stop a grin.

“God, Betty, why wouldn’t I be?” The smile in his voice killed any feigned irritation.

“What are you doing?” She probed.

“Watching TV.”

“At home?”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t help but feel a little lucky at her interest.

“And how did you get so drunk?”

“My dad.” She gave an unreadable oh as an answer, and he explained before his brain could catch up, “My mom called, she and Jellybean can’t come for Christmas.”

It was silent for a moment. “Oh, Juggie. I’m so sorry,” Betty said.

“It’s alright. Thanks, Betts,” Jughead said. “How about you, what are you doing?”

“I’m in bed,” she answered in a smaller voice.

“Oh,” he said somewhere between a breath a normal octave.

“Yeah,” she echoed his tone, then she spoke up, “my hangover manifested in a headache that only got worse. I’m drinking hot tea. Herbal. It’s helping.”

He grinned as she rambled. Something inside twitched at the picture he had of her, drinking herbal tea every bit as sexy to him as if she’d described what she was wearing.

“That’s good,” he murmured, eyes closing again. He said simply, “So, tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Are you looking forward to it or dreading it with every fiber of your being?” Betty asked.

“Definitely looking forward to it,” Jughead said, his answer honest and unguarded.

“Good,” she said sweetly.

Her words from the night before still danced around his head. “I miss you too, Betty.” He heard her breathing grow heavier.

“Mm. Sweet dreams, Jug.”

“Yeah. Sweet dreams, Betts.”


End file.
